To Bend or Break
by Anyelse
Summary: (Big Four) "Among this year's tributes, there shall be two who will attempt to stand against what the Games stand for. They will attempt to unite the other districts, to rise for a common cause." The shadow paused, the next line an almost serpent-like hiss, "They must fail."
1. An Introduction

**.o.O.**_** An Introduction **_**.O.o.**

Welcome to the Capitol, the heart of the Panem nation, a marvel of civil engineering. The entire city gleams like a huge gem of glass and steel. Super structures reach to the sky like the huge, smooth-sided nests of termite mounds. Walkways span between the crystal towers, interlocking the city as tree branches do in a forest. It's been said, and proven that a man may walk the entire length of the city, from East to West, without once having to set foot on the clean, streets below.

Instead he may walk along the many skywalks travelling from tower to tower, as a spider travels across his web. Not that he would know what a spider looks like, in this clean, vermin-free city. Unless he decided to visit the specimens living in one of the many covered roof-top gardens. Many people do, taking the silent, efficient elevators up to the top-most parts of the city to enjoy the melting rainbow of a sunset. The colours dance along the towers, painting the crystal city brilliant colours that are simply stunning. And should they continue to watch the city, as the last rays of daylight fade, they'd witness the night life of the city come alive.

As the automated environmental systems prevent the insides of the buildings from cooling below anything less than lukewarm and pump filtered air into the buildings, the visitor may see the lights of the city drown out the light of the stars. The buildings glow with lights, and screens with luminescent advertisements. Smiling Capitol Citizens drinking various new drinks, donning the latest fashions. Smiling at the people below, with bright eyes, hair and, at times, skin, looking for all the world like preening birds.

Walking under the lights, and through the rainbows cast by the screens of the various advertising stations, the Citizens of the Capitol walk on through the bright lights. From the view given by the tallest building in the city, their bright clothes and colourings cause them to look like huge garish coloured wasps.

Above them, a spider watches.

He stands in the roof-top garden on the Central Tower of the Capitol. In this city of lights, sounds and colour, he is its shadow. The spider of the city's web. The garden in which he stands is dark, though the light from the rest of the city dances along the floor through the glass roof. All that can be seen of him is a shadow, a dark outline of a man facing the window, hands behind his back, watching the city in relaxed meditation.

There is a musical flute that echoes behind him, as the elevator doors open. Golden light's shed as a rectangle on the floor, before the passenger walks out and the doors close. The garden thrown into near-darkness once more as the newcomer walks with a straight-postured purpose towards the shadowed man.

"Madam Gothel, you're late." A silky voice greeted the woman. The man half-turned to face her, the shadows still hiding his features.

"I'm never late. You're just ridiculously early." Sniffed the straight-backed woman.

The bright flashing of an advertisement shone on shark-like teeth in a sneer. "An old excuse Gothel. Though I suppose I shouldn't really be that surprised."

Gothel bristled at the subtle insult. "You're one to talk!" She snapped.

The shadowed man shrugged half-heartedly. "Touche. But we did not come here to discuss the 'Good Ol' Days,' such as they may be." He turned to face 'Madam Gothel' fully, hands still clasped behind his back. "No, I've requested your presence on far more pressing concerns."

The woman known as Madam Gothel raised an eyebrow at her partner's choice of words. "Get to the point already Pitch."

Gold eyes flashed in the dark. "Of course, straight to business. I'm sure that you're aware that we have a new ..." The man known as Pitch paused, looking for the correct term, "... colleague who shall be working with us this ... season." The lights gleamed on another unnerving smile of half-shadowed teeth.

Madam Gothel's grey eyes narrowed at the shadow man. "Working with _you_. I'm mentoring this year. Someone tipped off the Fat Cat. I'm not overseeing the Arena this year." There was an under-current of unspoken anger in her tone. She could feel her hands clenching into fists at her sides. Meanwhile her 'collegue was buffing his nails on his suit with an air of nonchalance.

"And who would _ever_ do a thing like that?" The faint light outlined a smirk in the corner of Pitch's mouth. Gothel opened her mouth to, possibly snap at him, Pitch cut across her before she could. "No Gothel, working with _us_, I've seen to that." The dancing lights shone on a pair of gleaming yellow eyes narrowed in irritation, "Though he is more likely to work against us." Both hands were behind his back once again.

"It's a definite 'fly in the ointment,' so to speak."

Gothel crossed her arms. "Speak plainly Pitch, you didn't call me all the way up here just to tell me that you don't like the 'New Kid' so to speak." The shadows still prevented her from seeing her ally's features, but she knew him well enough to imagine the smirk as she parroted his words back at him.

"Certainly. This year's tributes," an imagined sneer, "our very ... selective tributes, I need you to keep an eye on them. I need you to make sure that they'll fail."

His answer puzzled Gothel. "Which one?"

"All of them."

This answer was no clearer than the last. "I don't follow."

Pitch sighed, as if put upon, and raised his hands to massage his temples. "Really Gothel, I thought you'd be smarter than this."

"These half-evasive answers are not helping anyone Pitch. Give me an actual instruction, not a half-baked metaphor."

Pitch paused in his activity to eye roll. "Being direct is dangerous in a land where walls have ears. You run the risk of being over heard."

Gothel raised an eyebrow, her arms still crossed, her hip swung to the side. "And being cryptic with your allies is not? _You _run the risk of being misunderstood." Gothel's eyes narrowed, "You know as well as I do that there are no ears here, _you've_ cut them of." Her face relaxed into a smirk, "But only after _I_ found them."

Pitch laughed a humorless laugh. He half turned to face the city once again. "Yes ... I suppose you are correct." Pitch bowed his head in thought, then turned his head so that his gold eyes met Gothel's grey ones. "Alright, just this once I'll be frank with you." He turned his back to Gothel to face the city and watch as the 'garishly coloured wasps' buzzed about their mundane lives. When he spoke again, his back as still to Gothel, but his voice carried across the room to Gothel so that she could hear it as if he was whispering in her ear. She repressed a shiver.

"Among this year's tributes there will be two who will attempt to stand against what the Games stand for. They will attempt to unite the other districts, to rise for a common cause." Pitch paused, the next line came as an almost serpent-like hiss;

_"They must fail."_

Madam Gothel could not quite hide the shudder that the shadow man couldn't possibly see. Nevertheless, Pitch Black smirked at the advertisements turning off in front of him, the Captitol seal taking its place.

"But for that to happen, they need to survive _long enough _to try, to fail."

The Capitol Anthem began to play throughout the city as the seal changed scene to images of children, of blood, of battle ...

"That's where _you_ come in my dear."

Of the Hunger Games.

A musical flute announces the return of the elevator. Pitch turns to Madam Gothel, the light from the screens and city, dancing in his eyes and off his shark-like grin. "Good luck."

Madam Gothel walks back to the elevator, the butter yellow light catching her deep, black curly hair, and shimmering on her blood red dress as she turned to face the closing doors. Between them she saw the Capitol's Spider face her. His form a shadow, the lights of the city dancing around his dark form. The hiss of the closing doors sounds like the hiss of his last words.

_"May the odds be ever in your favour."_

**.o.O.O.o.**

_**Author's Note**_

_So, I caved in. Yep! After, what? Nearly three long years of total silence, I'm finally back with this little beauty. This will be my first crossover, and I am going to stick this one out for once. Consider this "chapter" a little warm up before I actually start typing out this story for real._

_This, I suppose, you could call a Big Four crossover. I _do_ have a vague idea about where I want to take it. (What it this "Plah-Ning" that you speak of? I've never heard it before in my life) And yes, people _are_ going to die. I'm not going to sugar-coat that little piece of information. There will only be one winner. Perhaps I'll start up a poll for people to send sponsorships to their favourite character. I already know who I want to win in this contest, and am already planning some lovely little deaths. (Sorry Jack Frost fans! ... Actually no, I'm really not.)_

_This fanfic will also be posted on my Tumblr account, going by the name 'Anyelse' which I am going to change my Fanfiction name to. I'll be like the pheonix, and rise again out of the old ashes. Mwah ha ha ha ha ha!_

_Leave some money in the tin. (Or reviews in that lovely little box. I need to know what I'm doing wrong, or right. I can't tell what that is unless you lovelies tell me. 'Cause I'm quite redundant like that!)_

_'Till next time,_

_Mmmmmmm-Chi-_

_Er ... I mean,_

_Anyelse._

_P.S. This Fic **will not be a priority**. I'm only writing it because I'm in the middle of some quite pressing tests at the moment, and am only using this to stop myself from going insane with the stress. Isn't that right purple-people-eater-who-is-currently-hanging-out-i n-my-wardrobe?_


	2. District Twelve

**.o.O. **_**Merida **_**.O.o.**

_"That which does not bend, must break."_

_-Unknown_

All legends have humble beginnings.

The river grows from the stream, the mountain from pebbles. Every hero is born a stumbling child and every adventure must begin with the first step. Even the great oak tree must grow from a single acorn.

This 'oak tree' is the story of four young people who would become legends. Forced together by oppression and tyranny, united together by alliance and friendship. Their tale would bring hope and wonder to the oppressed nations of their people. Their struggle , their endurance, their unity, their spirit and courage would last eternally in their people's hearts.

Yet in the beginning, their stories were not yet legends.

But in them, their bonds were struck.

.o.O.O.o.

Our story begins far away from the Capitol. From the lights that drown out stars, from the chiming flutes of high-rise elevators and the darkness of glass-walled gardens. Lifetimes away from a city built on blood as much as it is on stone the mountainous ranges of District Twelve are washed in the blue-grey light of dawn.

On the very borders of the Panem Nation, District Twelve is most distinct for the 'wild lands' that surround its central settlement. The high and often treacherous mountains are constantly cloaked in a misty veil, making the dense seasonal forest a gloomy and often sinister terrain. Wild animals and worse, hide within its dark folds, sheltered from the down-trodden people of District Twelve.

Not that they truly need to.

Around the central settlement a tall electric fence encircles the town. Officially, it is to keep the starving wild creatures out, for the 'protection of the population.' Unofficially, it is to keep the starving people from wandering out, a job kept by both the fence and the Peacekeepers.

That does not mean that they're particularly vigilant about their work.

Up in a tree a raven cocks his head. A particularly clever bird, he spies a dead rabbit by the base of a neighbouring tree. Beady, yellow eyes focused on his target, his wings snap open as he begins to swoop down. Beating the air clumsily the raven slows down and lands by his prey. The rabbit is still warm as he hops toward it, this close he can now see that the mammal is not yet dead; but by his well-informed judgement, it soon will be.

As the rabbit lies panting on the ground, too exhausted and dull-eyed from pain to care as the raven hops around with his head turned to one side, sharp, yellow eyes inspecting the damage. From the rabbit's flank, matted with blood and torn muscle, protruded an arrow. Cawing, the raven tapped the shaft, the rabbit quivered in pain. With bright eyes, the raven watched the rabbit shake and tremble in fear and pain. He tapped it again, the rabbit's eyes sharpened and then dulled, but the creature did not try to run.

Content, the raven's wings snapped open again, and he clumsily beat the air up into the tree's branches. Waiting patiently.

A snapped twig cracked the clearing's silence.

Lightning fast, the raven turned his head to watch a mane of fiery red hair stumble into the clearing. A fiery, tangled bush of red hair, hard blue eyes, a bow in hand and a confident grace that only comes from being in control. Yes, this had to be the hunter. Damn.

He watched as the tracker bared her teeth and strung her weapon over her torso. Excellent, no weapons but her hands. Kneeling, the human bent over the rabbit, obscuring his view. The snap of the neck was as loud as the twig. Now standing, the human girl was attempting to wrestle her arrow from the small dinner. _'My dinner.'_

Now was the point to strike.

"Caaaaaaw!" Diving from the tree, the raven dive-bombed over the human's head.

"Caw!"

Again,

"Caw!"

again,

"Caw!"

and again.

"What the- Hey! Get off me yeh fecking crow!"

_"Caw!"_ He pulled out a snag of hair.

"Ow! Argh! Get thee fook!"

"Caw!"

She dropped the rabbit as he beat at her face with his wings. The raven seized his chance. Or at least he tried to. Fisting his claws in the beraggled fur, he attempted to take off. Flying with a rabbit is impossible, if you are as big as the rabbit. Lesson learned like a boot to the chest. Literally.

Kicking off the fat beast, Merida grabbed the sinuey little rabbit and backed off a few steps. She glared at the untidy mess of black feathers flapping clumsily about after its unexpected flight. Fluttering with clumsy grace back to its clawed feet, it turned its beady, yellow eyes on her and aggressively puffed up its feathers. It looked pissed and because of that, Merida couldn't take it seriously.

"Hah, you look like a feckin' puff-ball!" Snickered Merida while sorruptisciously placing a foot back in retreat. That thing looked _really_ pissed.

The 'raven' narrowed its yellow eyes into slits. With his pitch black feathers making him look three times bigger than he actually was, he kicked up dirt and reverted to his greatest scare-tactic. Opening his beak as wide as possible, he let out a,

_"Hiiiiiiiiisss!"_

Merida kept moving backwards. This was a strange bird, _very_ strange. She wouldn't put it past the thing to be a MUTT from the Capitol, in which case she should high-tale it out of here, dignity be damned. But he could also just be desperate ... Hah, unlikely. Birds are never desperate, they're as free as the wind.

_"Hiiiiiiiisss!"_ The bird-thing started hopping foward and, despite herself, Merida found herself retreating a little faster.

_"Hiiiiiiisss!"_ It was nearly at the tree now.

_"Hiiiiissss!_ Caw!" It bolted towards her on clumsy wing beats, kicking up dirt in its wake. Merida kicked out again, she raven flew upwards towards her face, what Merida did next was purely out of reflex. She swung the rabbit carcass at the black-feathered demon knocking him off-course. The raven himself, grabbed the leg as the human attempted to knock him out of the air. Claws digging in, there was a wet ripping sound. The rabbit's leg, already torn and hanging on by a few ligaments, was finally parted from the carcass.

Beating at the air, a rabbit leg is much lighter than a rabbit after all, the raven flew away with its prize, cawing in triumph all the way.

"Haw! Haw! Haw! Haw!"

"Hey! That was my best arrow!"

In the time it took Merida to drop her half, bring out her bow and nock an arrow, that brute of a bird had already disappeared in the surrounding mists of the mountain. Taking a good chunk of her morning catch with it.

"Argh! Feck it all!" Yelling, Merida punched the tree, ignoring the pain it brought her knuckles as she sank down to her knees at its roots.

It had not been a good morning for Merida. After sleeping up in a tree waiting for game, checking all of her empty snares and then loosing her best arrow to take down an injured doe, only to have a passing rabbit 'catch' it instead, and not even wound properly. Nothing was in season, being early spring, so there wasn't even a foraged collection to bring back instead of meat. It was as if the universe was openly mocking her, today of all days. Merida supressed a shiver, and turned to sit at the base of her tree. She'd rest here for a while before heading back. Merida checked the sky. Dawn, but the sun had not yet risen. If she headed back soon, she might be able to lie a little while in bed before her mother came looking for her.

Merida leaned against the tree, she'll rest here just a little while longer. Leaning against the tree, she inspected the damage done to her catch. The rabbit was small and not particularly meaty, the leg that remained was all bone and skin, no fat or meat at all. Merida could count every bone in the runty catch's spine. With the leg torn off in the tussle with that freaky bird and the little meat that was on it, the carcass was worthless in terms of trade. Even the pelt was damaged, the skin torn and in tatters, most of the winter coat lost and some of the summer fur as well.

Groaning, Merida rested her head against the tree. The morning's work that she had to do for this one reward was not worth it. Now she had to go back home and face off with her _mother_. She openly winced.

_'But maybe I can find some way around it ... Unlikely, but still.'_

With a little sigh Merida got to her feet and started the long walk home with her meagre catch.

.o.O.O.o.

Set in the rocky Highlands of the Panem Nation, District Twelve was a sparsley populated area. Furthest away from the Capitol and surrounded by wild, unpopulated mountain ranges, it was District Twelve's duty to supply the Capitol at the centre of Panem with coal and fuel. Everyone in the central town of the district was involved, in some way, in extracting the mineral. It was a tough life for all involved. Especially the miners. Many have gone into that Hell of pitch black darkness in the mines, only to never see the light of day again.

It's even worse for the families left behind.

Life in District Twelve is harsh and hard. It's rare for a year to go by without any deaths at all, the average being usually six lives swallowed by the mines. Officially, hunger is not the main cause of death, at least, no one says that it is out loud. When a miner dies his family will often follow, having no form of income to barter for food. The family rations are only given out when the quota of coal is fufilled; a family, in shock with no way of supporting themselves are soon picked off, one by one until the mother dies of a 'fever' and the children are sent to the Community Home.

Even the meagre rations are not enough to feed a family, many going hungry in the winter desperately waiting for spring. Some families keep jealously guarded vegetable plots and nanny goats, but even so, there never seems to be enough food in the average household.

This has led to a block market. One which our first hero is making her way towards even as we speak.

.o.O.O.o.

Merida crept though the gloomy half-light of the forest edging her way carefully down the mountain. Shimmying down a steep slope, she paused at the bottom looking around before continuing.

**.o.O. _Author's Note _.O.o.**

_Just a brief preview of the next chapter. I'm sorry guys, I'm just having way too much trouble trying to tie this story together, so I'm going on a brief holiday from it. Hopefully that'll stir my creative juices a little. Until then, to make it up to you, not only have I uploaded the preview of this chapter, but I've also published a little side-project. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you 'A Potterific AU.'_

_Based off of the Tumblr blog of the same name, which was deleted some time ago, this is my version of "The Big Four Go To Hogwarts, Where They Get Into All Sorts Of Mischive." At the moment, we're munching our way through First Year. So, of course, I have to write a chapter about Diagon Alley._

_Now before the 'flames' start, yes, I know that it's only half-done. But I figure that I've posted two half-done chapters, and two halves make a whole, so technically, I've posted an entire chapter._

_So until next time, when I've got my head screwed on straight,_

_Anyelse._

_P.S. Leave a little review before I publish this chapter for real? *puppy eyes*_

_P.P.S. Virtual cookie to the person who sees the 'Brave' quote._


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